


Let's Kill It Completely

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Damages
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of season 3, after Tom's service at the lake house, Ellen comes back in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Kill It Completely

Ellen can't get the sound of Patty's voice out of her head. She hasn't been able to since she first heard it. The heartbroken, devastated cry.

_"I don't understand! I told you to stop!"_

It turns her stomach.

She blinks back the memory, an action she hopes will erase it from her brain altogether.

It doesn't.

And much to Ellen's dismay, a couple of stray tears fall out instead. She's drunk, and numb enough, and definitely did not see tears coming. She wipes them off her cheeks swiftly, but Patty's voice lingers in her conscience.

The desperation in her voice was like nothing Ellen had ever heard before. It shook the young attorney like nothing ever had, and it made her feel guilty. The guilt is going to linger within her for a long time, perhaps forever, but it's guilt for so much. So many reasons that have caught her off guard and knocked her on her ass.

The past few months have been a whirlwind. Every day she spent with Patty was rejuvenating to Ellen. Every conversation was exhilarating, and every second she could indulge in looking at the older woman-no. She cannot think like this. She cannot allow herself to do so. But then again, it's what she's been doing since the moment that purse arrived on her desk.

The temptation to accept it, the excitement in rejecting and the consequences the action might have brought forth, the games that followed...

Now, she knows what the guilt is. Now she understands why the sound of Patty's devastation makes her feel like a piece of shit. Because it's not all the shady backdoor deals or the favoring of Patty herself against her boss's strict warning-it was that Ellen herself caused that pain-that pain that Patty is experiencing-that she felt when she made that phone call-Ellen is to blame for that, and she hates herself for it.

Patty's cried so much throughout the day. She's excused herself many times during Tom's service-the mere mention of her departed friend's name brings on a wave of emotion that Ellen has been a witness to.

It isn't just guilt on Patty's part, though. Ellen knows. Guilt alone doesn't double a person over in wretched sobs, the way it did Patty earlier that day in the kitchen when no one else but Ellen was around.

Ellen held her then, kneeled on the kitchen floor with the older woman crying painful sobs against her shoulder while Ellen herself did everything to keep herself together. When the blonde could manage it, she got to her feet and snuck away to compose herself in the upstairs bathroom. The incident didn't repeat itself but Ellen cold tell it easily could so she kept watchful eye.

Now, Ellen cries.

She's pretty much alone in this crummy side-of-the-road bar anyway and she's drunk. People will leave her alone. Her hair is a mess. The styled straight do is now a wavy mess that's borderline frizzy. It'll get there eventually.

She could not care less about her appearance right now though. All she cares about is that she cares way too much about hurting Patty. She cares about the fact that the highlight of her every day the last three or four months has been getting to see or hear from Patty. She cares about what that moment when Patty kicked her out of her apartment did to her that evening and how she cried like she had not cried since David's death. She told herself it was a combination of everything the day had slapped her with. But she knows better.

She hates how happy it made her when Patty forgave her. So she downs the entirety of her bourbon. She also hates that bourbon is her beverage of choice now. She used to hate the stuff, and now it's her favorite treat.

"Oh-god..." She groans against both hands before she wipes her face clean of the tears she never tried to stop.

"You okay, honey?" The waitress that's been serving her drinks and pretty much babysitting Ellen asks as she picks up another empty glass.

Ellen laughs and blurts a blunt, "No." She groans again and exhales before looking up at the kind green eyes staring back. "I'm drunk."

"That you are-"

"And I don't even-" Ellen looks around the darkened bar for a moment, and adds, "-yeah, I don't remember how to get home from here."

"You were at the Hewes place, right?" The waitress seems to be a few years younger than Ellen. Dark hair, fair skin, blue eyes.

 _Patty would like her_ , Ellen thinks, and closes her eyes at the ridiculous thoughts her brain is cooking up." I sure was!" She says brightly.

"You want me to get you a cab? They can drive you back there."

"No, I don't want to go there." Ellen mumbles and bangs her elbow down hard against the table top before resting her cheek on her palm and uttering a miserable, "Owe." She breathes in deeply and watches as the waitress sits across from her. "Do you know the lady of the house?" Ellen asks. She's slurring her words and probably looks like an idiot, speaking like she's reading from a storybook, but she's so past caring it's ridiculous. "Patty Hewes is her name."

The friendly waitress chuckles softly and offers a short nod, "I do. She's a nice lady. Great tipper."

"Patty's been here?" Ellen asks, "What am I talking about? There's alcohol, of course she's been here," She stops and looks around. trying to picture where Patty would choose to sit. "She didn't sit here, did she?"

"No, she actually likes the bar," The other woman replies.

"Yeah," Ellen says with a lazy smile, "She does. I think she likes people looking at her. I don't like it."

"What? When people look at you? You're a beautiful girl-"

"Nooo, when people look at _her_ ," Ellen explains. She lifts the hand that isn't holding up her head and drops it to land flatly on the table with a splat, "People think she's a bitch-well-she is, but not always. She's kind of brilliant actually-and she's pretty. That's why men look at her. You know?"

"You have a little crush," The waitress teases with a warm laugh.

Ellen glares, but fails to become angry in her current state and instead falters into the briefest of smiles before raising her hand and using her thumb and index finger to simulate, "Just a little bit."

"Well-" The waitress says as she gets up, "-I need to close and from what I hear, you need to get back to this Hewes lady, so-"

"No-no-no..." Ellen shakes her head, sitting up, all too quickly, and closing her eyes as her head begins to spin and she loses her reason for not going back to Patty's, "-okay, yes, you're right, I should got to Patty's."

"I'll get you a cab."

 

******

The last of her guests have gone. Two of Tom's brothers-the two that hate her the least-are the last to leave and Patty is exhausted. Not that she'll be able to sleep anyway, but she feels she needs to be alone. She's proven herself wrong as soon as the door is closed and she turns to face an empty house. She leans back against front door and sighs, closing her eyes for a minute before opening them and deciding that a drink will help.

She toes off her shoes and kicks them aside. She has no energy left to be tidy and decides she can put the stilettos away later. Her feet are tired and when she steps on the bare cool floor, the sensation is welcome and received with another sigh. She takes a moment to stretch, bending the toes and allowing the soles of her feet to flatten out against the floor. It takes exactly two sips of her freshly served drink before a car pulls up outside.

Looking up at the ceiling, she groans in frustration and moves her tired feet towards the front door once more. Out the large window, she spots the yellow taxi. She frows and wonders who the hell that could be.

She's rendered nearly thoughtless when a disheveled Ellen stumbles out of the backseat, purse and jacket flung over her arm as she slams the car door shut and then unceremoniously pushes her hair back with both hands, cursing at the wind before resuming towards the front of the house.

A cold gush of air washes over the older woman upon opening the door in time to see Ellen trip over a rock.

"Shit..." The brunette curses down at the ground before looking up and stopping short at the sight of Patty, framed in the doorway, one hand on the door, the other holding a drink, barefoot and beautiful, still dressed in the black dress she's been wearing all day. It's a strangely domestic picture and Ellen has to shake herself out of it.

"You're drunk." Patty says blandly.

Ellen nods, and her feet begin to move. "I am." upon reaching Patty, Ellen's words fail her and tears she blames on the countless glasses of alcohol well up in her eyes, "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I made you cry."

The way Ellen's voice quivers makes Patty's chest fill with emotion and that unnerving knot in her throat returns, unwelcome as it may be, and she sighs nodding and stepping aside. Ellen steps through the doorway and anxiously looks around the foyer before the door is closed behind her and then turns around.

Patty really does look beautiful. About a foot shorter out of those heels she's so fond of and which are so very distracting. She's softer this late at night-or early in the morning-she seems sad still and this breaks Ellen's heart all over again. The cut of the dress Patty's wearing is modest. As modest as it gets. Modest length, resting above the knee, modest sleeve length too, three quarter modest, and a modest neckline, showcasing all of a quarter of an inch of cleavage. Still, it's something and Ellen can't help but notice. She's been noticing everything about Patty lately and it's taken a gallon and a half of bourbon for her to realize why.

"You know, you look amazing in that dress..." She says breathlessly.

Patty's wrist jerks a little and she's this close to spilling her drink. She catches herself however and turns away. "Ellen, you need to sleep." She doesn't want to sound as if she's brushing the young woman off, but the looks and the late night phone calls, the games and the flirting-it can't culminate here, now. Not when Tom is dead and Ellen is drunk, and Patty is completely sober.

Patty's heart beats avidly, drumming at a constant and rushing beat against her chest plate while she leads Ellen towards the downstairs guestroom. No need to have her sleeping so close to her own bed.

They don't make it past the living room before Ellen speaks up again behind her, "Patty, I'm so sorry."

Patty stops and swiftly turns on her heel, "What are you sorry for?"

"For Tom-I should have made him stop, I should listened-"

"This isn't your fault-" Patty says, and realizes she's speaking to herself as much as anyone else, "-well, maybe we're all at fault. Just a little bit." Averting her gaze, she touches the rim of her glass to her lips-thinks about Tom-and gulps down half of her drink. "You can stay in the guestroom, you can't drive anywhere tonight."

Ellen's footsteps behind Patty are unnerving, mostly because she can tell she's hurrying to reach her. They walk into the bedroom soon, and when Patty turns to invite Ellen to make herself at home, she can't speak. Because Ellen is looking at her with a little bit of confusion, a lot of guilt and a hell of a lot more desire than Patty thinks she can handle at the moment.

The girl is breathtakingly beautiful and Patty's spent so much of her time ignoring any serious attempt at anything more than a mentorship and fragments of the most fucked up friendship either woman will ever be a half of. The past few months have been especially confusing and sufficiently frustrating in every sense of the word. They both wonder if the mistrust will always be there. They both wonder if they've always been attracted to each other, and most of all, they both wonder if they've known all along.

It isn't beyond Patty's comprehension as to why they play all these mind games. It's the thrill of it all. It heightens every nerve and provides a level of salaciousness unlike anything else. A simple action-an innocent bystander such as Alex Benjamin-it's part of their ritual to push and pull at each other to see how far they can stretch out the tension before someone snaps.

Every smile and shared glance-everything has piled on and on, and now, it's come to this. Ellen, too drunk to stand up straight and Patty, too sober and too tired to deny the young brunette, were the opportunity to present itself.

"I'm not tired." Ellen says. her lips part and she licks them subconsciously. Patty is transfixed.

The older woman swallows hard and nods in the opposite direction as she moves towards a safe exit, "Let's get you some water then..." She breezes right past Ellen, who seems to hold her breath until Patty has left the room.

Sometimes, Ellen feels like she spends large portions of her time following behind this woman. She's constantly drawn in only to be expected to follow. It unnerves her and when she seats herself at the kitchen counter moments later, she toes her heels off and lets them fall noisily on the floor along with her jacket and purse, which she has been carrying around until now. She crosses her legs and waits with a scowl to be served by Patty, who's only acknowledged Ellen's wordless tantrum with a brief side-glance as she pours a glass of water, then brings it over to her unannounced guest.

Her moody guest who won't even attempt to reach out and take her glass, instead waiting for Patty to set it right in front of her.

Patty is well aware of Ellen's eyes so focused on her every move, and just like the younger woman can't help but let her eyes roam over Patty's chest as her drink is placed down gently on the counter, Patty can't help but allow her own gaze to drop cleanly over Ellen's legs, a deep dark shade in the black tights she wears under her dress.

Ellen's knees shift a little under the scrutiny of Patty's stare and in turn, the younger woman pulls at the skirt of her dress, raising it about an inch before Patty states firmly but quietly, "That's enough."

Their eyes meet defiantly and Ellen's heart is racing almost as quickly as Patty's. But Ellen drops her hand off her lap and is surprisingly obedient, reaching for her glass instead. A small sip at first, then a larger gulp, then another, and another until the entirety of her serving is gone and a droplet is trickling down the corner of her mouth, down her chin before it disappears in an invisible track down her neckline, which Patty trails to its torturous end.

When Ellen looks at Patty again, the older woman's chest is heaving slowly and after something that appears to be a scornful glare, she turns away and makes sure to put the large counter between them by rounding the marble rock swiftly.

Ellen would hate to admit it, but the glass of water has definitely sobered her up a bit. She feels a large percentage more level headed and more present than she was seconds ago. It doesn't change the physical reaction Patty extracts with just a single lift of her brow however.

"Why did you come back here?" Patty asks.

Ellen smiles slowly, "We've been dancing around this for months now. I think you know."

Patty inhales slowly. "It's mildly cliché, don't you think?" She leans forward to rest her weight on her elbows, "Sympathy sex, I mean. It's revoltingly unimaginative."

Ellen nods briefly, considering the statement with a thoughtful frown before replying, "It would be, I suppose. If we had any sympathy for each other, that is. But there's nothing to sympathize. This-" She inhales deeply and sits upright as she motions between them, "-is not about sympathy. I have no sympathy for myself or for you anymore. It is what it is because we made it this. I want you, and you keep looking at me like you want me, so-" She shrugs and smiles a little more at Patty's uneasy shift of weight from one foot to the other, "-I'm game if you are."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Patty carefully inquires, "And what exactly do you expect to get from this presumed tryst?"

"A little revenge, a little bit of release-some catharsis. I don't know, Patty. I walked off that dock ready to never look back and here I am. It's gotten to a point where we can't look each other in the eye--we've fucked up. So-let's kill it completely-let's finish it. We're done as it is anyway, don't you want to want to know? Aren't you curious?" She pauses to unabashedly scan Patty from head to toe, "I'm definitely curious."

"You're drunk."

"I wish I was still drunk--I wish we both were. We wouldn't still be talking about it if we were-"

Patty stares back wordlessly. She is seriously considering Ellen's suggestion. it's definitely tempting. But she is also wondering if it's the grief talking. Sighing, she shakes her head and walks towards her drink, which has been left at the far end of the kitchen, near the sink. She picks it up, sips it and turns around to face the other woman, "It's that simple, huh?"

"When has anything related to you or me been simple, Patty?"

Patty chuckles. Ellen relishes in the sound of that laugh and watches the blonde for a moment before slowly rising to her feet.

There's a window behind Patty, sitting just above the sink she's leaning against, and when Ellen's gaze lands on the pair of pink lips, wrapped around the edge of a glass before the last of the brownish drink disappears behind them, she catches her breath.

 

Outside, the whistling wind that has been pushing the branches of the tree nearby against the window in a gentle tip-tap has suddenly become a mirror image of everything transgressing between the two women. The wind becomes manic, pushing the arms of the maple tree in a harsher rhythm against the usually spotless glass. The sound is no longer a whistle, but a howl that seems to rock the entirety of Patty's luxurious weekend home.

It's only fitting that their first kiss happens this way. In the aftermath of someone's death, with the taste of alcohol on both their tongues. It's deep and slow, and they remain in that moment until they're both so completely out of breath they're forced to part. As it turns out, Patty has very little control over what happens next, because while her legs are moving, she isn't aware of anything aside from Ellen's hands and her lips while they make it upstairs to the master bedroom with great difficulty, as they keep stopping for more kissing, more groping--just more.

Every stop proven more difficult to move out of with every shiver inducing caress, every breath stealing touch of their lips-probing fingers and aching skin, breaths that are hesitant at first become deep and head spinning. They successfully find Patty's welcoming king size bed, and thank god for that because Patty wasn't above using the nearest wall for leverage.

Ellen scoots up the mattress slowly, Patty following with a predatory gleam to the usually icy blue stare that makes Ellen pant with anticipation. Her lips part, waiting for the kiss she is sure will come when Patty hovers above her, so close--painfully so--their lips are nearly grazing, only to offer one devilish smile before disappearing southward.

Dropping her head back against the mattress, Ellen sighs and watches the shadows, offered by only the moonlight streaming through the large window ahead, dance about the ceiling as Patty's mouth leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses across the expanse of Ellen's chest, her torso and hips, an action all the more intense through the fabric of her dress, which still remains mostly in place. Brown eyes flutter shut with an audible exhale when Patty's mouth finds its place between her legs.

Through the thin material of Ellen's tights, Patty licks and sucks while her hands travel back upward to palm the younger woman's breasts. She gropes and pinches lightly while her mouth eagerly continues. Ellen's scent is like nothing else and Patty is only urged on by every sigh she elicits from the other woman, her own body responding to the bucking of hips, the small moans that are only becoming louder.

Patty meant to only tease Ellen for a bit, but she can't help but stay just where she is when she laps at a particularly sensitive spot and feels a new surge of moisture soak the crotch of the brunette's tights. Patty moans herself, unable to ignore the throbbing between her legs and the way her nipples harden at the groaning she hears above her. Dropping her hands from their former exploration, she slips them underneath Ellen's thighs and spreads them a little wider, all the while holding her in place.

Ellen gasps and her hands find their way into Patty's hair, pulling just a little as she's slowly driven insane by the villainous mouth. Minutes later, with just a little bit of teeth and what she guesses is the tip of Patty's nose, Ellen's hips drive forward and she's officially become a screamer.

When she comes to, her hands are no longer webbed between blonde tresses, instead, they're gripping the covers beneath her while Patty kisses her neck.

"My tights--are ruined-" She mumbles, and slowly turns her head to meet those lips she's spent so much time staring at over the years.

Ellen finds her way on top of Patty and they stay this way for a while, kissing slowly, teasingly until both women are dizzy. Ellen pulls back, sitting up to leave one more kiss low on Patty's belly. Patty, who pushes her weight up to rest on her elbows, watching as Ellen climbs off the bed and removes her dress and tights in movements that are all too easy and all too delicate.

There's so much grace to Ellen, Patty can't help but sigh with pure admiration.

Her limbs are long and lithe, and her skin is like alabaster and when she crawls back onto bed, Patty is quick to reach for her. Ellen kisses her while on her hands and knees astride the blonde as Patty's hands skim over bare skin-over the gentle arch of Ellen's back, arms and ass where she is pulled back down to drape over the length of the older woman's body. But Ellen has too many fantasies to play out and she can't waste them all on distractions, so she pulls back slowly and smiles down at the blonde, who is all but verbally complaining at the loss of contact. Her hair is mussed and fanned out against the white comforter, her cheeks are a soft tint of pink and her lips are redder than they've ever been.

"Fuck--how do you do that?" Ellen pants and steals once more searing kiss before Patty can ask what she means.

Slow and easy is gone just like that. Ellen's hands begin to pull at Patty's dress, pushing the skirt up past her thighs and hips, suddenly all too impatient to wait for more.

Of all the scenarios Patty's ever pictured between she and Ellen--and there have a been many--she has to admit that she never imagined it to be quite this intense, and she most definitely did not ever even consider that she might be rendered compliant. She puts up a good fight, but in the end, she's the one on her hands and knees, teeth biting down against her bottom lip, and bracing herself with one hand tightly gripping the headboard as Ellen fucks her from behind with even firm strokes that seem to hit every damn sensitive zone Patty has and even some she wasn't aware existed. Her hips push back against Ellen's hand, moaning when she feels the younger woman bend over behind her to lick the small of her back. It's here that Patty's glad all she's got under her belt is a glass worth's buzz, because she wouldn't have wanted to miss this.

Patty clamps around Ellen's fingers, moaning Ellen's name for lack of an accurate expression as to just how good the young woman is at this, and in turn, Ellen feels a chill run down her spine because she isn't sure of just how she's going to be able to walk away from this now. It would have been easy before this--without this.

Without all this warm skin, and all this kissing that doesn't stop for long, without the closeness or without knowing what Patty sounds like and feels like. Collapsing on the mattress for the second time, with Patty turned away and panting beside her, Ellen begins to think this was a mistake after all.

The silence stretches out between them, both unknowingly in equal quiet acknowledgement that this is definitely more than they expected and most absolutely exactly what they feared.

Patty stares out at the wall straight ahead, focused on painting she purchased years ago in Italy, with her arms tucked under the pillow cushioning her head. She isn't sure just for how long she lays there, but when she feels Ellen stir beside her, her body is beginning to feel the chill of the room so she figures it's been long. But Ellen is warm when she drapes herself over her, lips trailing feather light kisses over each shoulder blade and in between. Patty closes her eyes and relishes in the sensation the soft kisses leave behind.

Ellen nuzzles against Patty's skin, inhaling the lingering smell of Chanel still left on the blonde's skin, along with the telling scent of sex between them both.

"Did you fuck Alex Benjamin?" It is asked in the most casual tone, but Ellen really wants to know. With an anticipating gaze, she traces every inch of skin her lips touch, her kisses becoming more and more tentative as she waits. She doesn't want to think that Patty had anything to do with that woman, but she hopes that all her careful sabotaging was not for nothing.

Patty frowns at the unexpected question and then can't help the chuckle that escapes her in spite of the tingling beginning to gently bubble along her spine. "No," She says simply, then adds dryly, "Did you?"

Ellen stops shortly and smiles as she moves to rest on her side. "I thought about it."

Patty turns her head to face the younger woman then, a look on her face that is truly an unimpressed one and asks, "Seriously?"

"Well, I was trying to prove something. But then--I thought you might be sleeping with her and it just pissed me off so she had to go."

"Is this confession time, or something?" Patty asks.

Ellen shrugs, "I was just curious."

"Does it make you feel better now that you know I didn't fuck her?"

Ellen knows Patty is teasing her. She can see that evil little glint in her eye. Rather than get into it over someone as trivial as Alex Benjamin, she leans over and kisses her.

They don't sleep for several more hours, and there is no more talking. Instead, there is the mutual understanding that when Patty wakes up at half past noon, spent and sated and just a little bit sore, Ellen will be gone.

Patty will be pissed and Ellen will fool herself into thinking this is the best thing for her. But the time will come when Patty will call in the middle of the night, Ellen will drive right over and it will begin again, the circle they can't seem to break. When asked, Patty will say she doesn't know why she feels the need to keep Ellen around-and when asked, Ellen will insist that through no fault of her own, Patty was persistent.

FINIS


End file.
